


Redesign Me, State of the Art

by iamwrite



Category: All Time Low
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Government Conspiracy, Government Experimentation, High School AU, Jalex - Freeform, M/M, Science Fiction, Zalex, all time low - Freeform, super powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:08:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamwrite/pseuds/iamwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secrets. Alex has plenty of them, and they're the reason why him and his mom have moved all the way across the ocean; to get away from them. If anyone finds out, it could ruin him, all over again. Meanwhile, Jack has some secrets of his own. He's content being a loner, but feels a strange pull towards the mysterious new kid Alex. Will they be good for one another, or ultimately destructive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So Bittersweet By Our Design

**Author's Note:**

> hey, so this is a story i wrote on wattpad so im just gonna upload it all here, have fun!

Alex's POV

I really didn't want to do this. I really didn't want to go to school. My alarm had yet to go off, but that hadn't stopped me from staring at my ceiling for the past hour and a half and blasting Blink-182 into my headphones for lack of something better to do. I had been laying there for so long that I think I might have convinced myself that I wasn't actually going to have to go.

I was abruptly pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of my mom yelling my name from the other side of my door and pounding her fists against it. I groaned and rolled over.

"Alexander! You get your little tush out of bed right now or breakfast will be a thing of the past!" she threatened. As I was debating whether or not to come out of my blanket cocoon, I realized just how badly I needed to take a piss, my stomach making an audible growl as well, and I decided that food and a stop to the bathroom were things that needed to happen soon. I threw my covers off and started to walk towards the door when she started again. "Fine, but if you think that I'm going to-"

"Geez, mom, I'm up, I'm up!" I growled, opening the door and weaving past her into the bathroom.

After taking what might have been the longest pee of my life, I turned to the mirror and fidgeted with my ridiculous and uncooperative hair. I looked like I could be a character from Dragon Ball Z, or that I just went through a wind tunnel. My hair was sticking up in what seemed to be every direction possible, and I was stumped on how I was going to tame it in under 20 minutes.

I gave up after ten, and decided that I would just slap a beanie on instead. Trudging back to my room, I smelled the sweet smell of my mom's pancakes and realized just how hungry I was all over again. Throwing on a pair of grey skinnies and a red v-neck t-shirt, I skipped downstairs and slid into my seat at the table, where a stack of syrupy goodness was already waiting for me with a knife and a fork.

I shoveled them down like I hadn't eaten in months, because when you're a teenage boy, every hour without food feels like just that; months.

I checked the clock above the stove and realized that I was going to be late if I didn't get my ass in to gear soon. I yelled a quick "Thanks mom!" as I threw my dish in the sink and made my way to the bathroom upstairs.

I brushed my teeth in a haste, nearly dripping toothpaste everywhere. After wiping my face and attempting to fix my hair one last time (with no success) I turned off the bathroom light and dashed into my bedroom.

I threw on my leather jacket, my black beanie, and my black chucks before sprinting down the stairs and out the door, back pack in hand. I faintly heard a sarcastic "Goodbye you ungrateful child!" from my mom before I started my car and backed out of the driveway.

Now, I'm gonna give you the lowdown about me. Firsts have never really been my thing. First kisses, first dates, first impressions; I fuck them all up, every time. I fuck everything up. It's what I do. So, naturally I didn't expect the first day of school to be any different.

Getting ready had almost distracted me from the said activity.... school. As I drove, I reverted back into my earlier state of thoughts of dread about the day that lay ahead of me. It was a bad idea to leave me alone with my thoughts, because they often got me into more trouble than they did creative avenues and wondrous ideas. However, over the past couple months, I have had no choice but to become used to being alone, so the fact that I wouldn't make many- or any- friends wasn't what has been plaguing me since I left. It was people finding out my secrets all over again that was scaring me to death. I wouldn't be able to handle all the looks and the stares. I don't think I could make it through this time. It had so much taken out of me that I was almost nothing.... but then we moved. And I could start over. I have to start over. I have to make sure that no one finds out. I won't repeat my mistakes; never again.


	2. You Wear The Smile To Hide The Coward Underneath

Jack's POV

Ah school. The soul crushing establishment that my fellow peers and I are forced to endure for the majority of our young adult lives.

Granted, some people's experiences are better than others. You know, the jocks, the cheerleaders; hell, even the stars of the school musicals seem to be making it in the high school "big time" now a days.

But you know, then there are people like me. And yeah, you've guessed it! I am one of those young adolescents who dreads coming to school every morning and counts the days until I won't have to see the faces of these assholes every morning through afternoon. Maybe if I had more friends, or was passionate about something high school wouldn't be such a drag. But hey, it's high school. You're not supposed to like it right?

This morning I felt something different in the air though. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, but something was different today then it had been yesterday. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe I'm not thinking straight because I didn't have my wheaties this morning or some shit. Whatever it was, I felt it, and that's never really a very good sign.

What a lot of people don't understand is that I am a loner by choice. I always thought that it would be easier than having to share myself and my secrets with others. And I don't really mind it. I've always had music, which kept me company better than I figured any possibly untrustworthy, unfaithful, or rotten friend could have.

Plus, I'm not sure any one would want to be friends with me anyways. Not only am I the gay kid (yes, woopie I'm a homosexual, please keep your rainbow flags at bay) which already puts a target on my back, but I have also been labeled the "gothic emo kid" as some would say based on my music taste. None of those things really bother me persay, when the biggest kicker of them all is the fact that I'm a freak.

Let me explain. I'm not the self-pitying, oh-boo-hoo-nobody-likes-me kind of person who is telling you that I am a freak because I want you to feel sorry for me. Uh uh. When I call myself a freak, I mean it more in the "freak of nature" sort of way.

Because, well... I may or may not be able to read other people's minds.

Don't freak out. It's totally chill, I promise. I can't control people's actions or move things with my mind or any shit like that. I can just, kinda, hear and see what people are thinking internally any time that I want to without them knowing. No biggie, really.

It's also kind of the other big reason I don't have many or any people I cam call my friends. I mean, it's partially due to the fact that I can hear people's first impressions of me, which can be off putting a lot of the time. But it's mainly because, I wouldn't trust anyone with my secret. And, I'd feel like I was cheating them out of a normal friendship. They'd never be able to keep secrets from me, which I think they would probably be upset about; I know I would be.

But like I said, I'm totally fine being alone.

Sure, I miss human interaction now and again, but it's just safer this way. Also, like, how cool is it that I know everyone's secrets? And the fact that they don't know that I know them, makes it that much better.

Like Kaylee, this indie chick in my US History class. She's had three pregnancy scares in the last month, and didn't tell anyone except for her best friend Erika. Oh, and Erika thinks that Kaylee is a slut, but won't tell her that because Erika has terrible self esteem because of her past relationships and thinks that she'll never be able to find another best friend. Personally, I think Erika is too good of a person to hang out with Kaylee, and I'd tell her that, if I didn't have to explain to her where my opinion came from. Oh well.

But seriously, listening to people's thoughts is like watching a freaking soap opera. Except, you are the only one who gets to enjoy it, and when you randomly laugh in the middle of class because the macho-man football player three seats ahead of you is picturing gay porn in his head, yeah people tend to think you're a little strange.

If I'm being honest though, the one thing that I'm really terrified of is being in a relationship. I mean, how would it even work? I would never be surprised by anything, and if I really wanted to be in a committed relationship with someone, I would have to tell them my secret. Which I don't think I'm ready to do just yet. I really don't know if I'll ever be ready to tell anyone though.

Hell, my parents don't even know. They just think that I'm their weird, gay kid who doesn't have any friends and strangely always knows what's for dinner before I'm told. And I guess, they just deal with that, thank goodness. I don't know how I would handle it if my dad was one of those football guys who forced his son to play on the school team and wanted him to follow in some weird family "legacy" or some shit. Nope, my dad is an accountant who is perfectly happy with working a nine-to-five job, me, and my sexuality.

So I guess I lucked out that I didn't get parents that pry, or push me to do things I don't want to do.

However, I'm still expected to get good grades, which I mostly do. I mean come on, I can hear the thought process of the smartest kid in class during every test, it's kind of hard not to pass.

As I approached the school in my small blue sedan, that same overwhelming feeling of paranoia washed over my body again. I seriously don't know what's up with me today. I mean, I go to this same shitty school with the same shitty people every day, why was I feeling so stressed and on edge randomly today?

I wasn't planing on doing anything different than I do every day: not talk to anyone, get through my classes, and get the hell out of there.

I tried to shake it off as I reached across the center console to grab my backpack and my books that were situated precariously in the passenger seat.

I walked up to the school and took a couple of deep breaths. Today was going to be fine. No different than any other day. Or at least, I hoped it wouldn't be.


	3. Chapter 3

Alex's POV

Today was turning out just how I predicted it would.

Crappy. 

There was a shit ton of traffic on the freeway, effectively making me late for my first period. I hated showing up late. It just reminded me of too many awful times where everybody's eyes were on me. I can't stand constant attention, it's annoying and nerve-wracking as all holy hell. 

Another downside to being late was going to be the lack of parking spots, especially for a sophomore. Seniors and juniors at this school apparently get special parking privileges and sophomores or any other student drivers have to park down the street, or on the other side of the school. I chose the latter and pulled up my old Toyota behind the tennis courts, next to a small blue car. 

I shifted the gear into park and turned off the engine. I figured I was already going to be marked tardy, so a couple of extra minutes wouldn't hurt. I was attempting to calm myself down by sitting in the silence of my car, but all I could hear was the rapid beating of my heart against my ribcage. This was going to be it. 

Until I had stopped my car, I was still able to pretend that I was going somewhere else. Maybe to the beach. Or to meet someone for breakfast. Or maybe that this wasn't happening at all and I was still in my room in London playing Blink covers with my best friends. 

Old best friends now, I guess. 

My life was never really too bad back in Essex. My dad left when I was little, so it had been just me and my mom for as long as I could remember. I love her to death, and I know that she strives to protect me at all costs, and to do what is best for me. She's an author, so she's always home and was around for the majority of my childhood, playing both of the parental roles. She always felt bad about my dad leaving, like that asshole walking out on us was in some way her fault. But I guess she felt sorry that I was growing up without a father. I however, was completely content. I never wanted to know or meet the man who caused my mother so much pain. I never tried to reach out to him or become closer with him. I figured, he didn't want to know me, so why should I give a shit about him? I haven't regretted it thus far. 

I always had a couple of close friends around as well. People I could talk to, people I could trust. Or at least, I thought I could trust. But nevertheless, my house was always a hub of activity. My mom loved having people over at the house, because growing up, she was a latch key kid and an only child whose parents worked full time. She loved being a stay at home mom and having her house filled with kids to entertain and cook for. But most of all, I just think she liked seeing me happy. So when all that shit went down last year, her maternal instinct was to get us the hell out of there. And that's what she did.

Stopping my stroll down memory lane, and grabbing my backpack and some money out of the glove compartment for lunch, I started to walk towards the main offices that were past the tennis courts and up the hill from where I was parked. As I trudged up the hill, this weird feeling of nausea that I've been having all morning reminded me of its presence. I just chocked it up to nerves, but as I approached the school, it only got worse. I wonder if I'm getting sick. Maybe there is some weird American disease that is one of those things you have to be vaccinated for before coming to the country, cause everyone that lives there is already immune to it, like the Spanish bringing chicken pox to the Native Americans. Well, whatever it is, it's fucking unhelpful and I really wish it would stop. 

As I opened the big glass front door of the office, I was greeted by a small woman behind a counter, with white hair, a very floral dress, and too much magenta lipstick. 

"Hello dear, do you have a late pass?" she asked grinning at me with huge teeth. 

"Oh, no I don't, sorry. It's actually my first day today, and I was wondering if I could get my schedule," I explained hoping that she would be nice enough to just give me my classes and let me be on my way. 

"Sure thing, dear. Name?"

"Alexander William Gaskarth," I said, trying hard to enunciate the syllables as clearly as possible on my last name so she would be able to spell it on her own.

"Yep! Here you are. Just let me print this out for you," she said sweetly. Apparently working at a school makes you good at spelling funky last names. "I see you're from Essex!" she mentioned excitedly as she pressed print and headed to the back room where I assumed the printer was. I looked over the counter and scanned her desk. There were a lot of cute family pictures with people I figured were her children and grandchildren, as well as a couple of small chachskis and paperweights. Very typical school-office-lady things. I didn't realize that she was still talking to me until she came back into the room, chattering quickly, "-and you know, I didn't really approve of my daughter just up and taking my only grandchildren all the way to London, but whaddya gonna do? Kids gotta figure out things for themselves right?" 

I nodded, hoping that I didn't look too dazed and confused while deciphering that the young woman in the framed picture on the desk was in fact her daughter, and that she moved to London, and that she took her children with her (god forbid), and that this woman was not very happy about it. 

She waddled back over to her desk to sign her initials on the schedule, proving that it was in fact from the office and not something that I made up and printed myself at home (but really, come one who would do that?). She handed me the still warm paper with my name and all of my classes on it. "Now, your first class will be in H203. That's in the building across from here. It'll be on the second floor on the left side. If you have any trouble finding any of your other classes, just ask your teachers, or any of the students. They are all quite lovely people and I'm sure they would be happy to help you. Good luck sweetie, happy first day!"

I turned around before rolling my eyes and saying a quick, probably very impolite "thank you" over my shoulder as I walked out. What seemed to be the upper quad was empty, except for a few stoners and burnouts ditching class. I decided to jog to the room so when I walked in, I might be slightly out of breath and it would at least looked like I was trying to make it there on time. As I rounded the corner after the stairs, I felt my stomach drop and eyes lose focus for a second.

Jeez, was I really that nervous? I needed to get over this, like now. I walked down a couple of paces until I saw the numbers 203 in black, block letters next to a closed door. I heard talking inside and pulled out my phone to check the time. School had started at 7:55, and it was only 8:30, so I wasn't that late, considering this school has a weird block schedule system where each class is an hour and a half. So there was still an hour left of class. I heard a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that that was still plenty of time for me to screw things up. 

Apparently it didn't need that long because as I was about to push down the handle and walk into the classroom, it was suddenly silent and then a loud chorus of gasps and screams erupted from inside. Confused, I rushed in, no longer worried about being late. The group of people were on edge and jumped at the sound of me walking through the door. Before I had to time to figure out what was going on, my head became incredibly light, and my vision blurred to the point where I couldn't see anymore. I fell back onto a nearby desk as my head swam. I leaned me hand against it, trying to steady myself. I let go in and attempt to try to stand up right, but inadvertently made things a lot worse as I felt my knees go weak almost instantly. It took all of my strength just to open my eyes ever so slightly. Before they were able to slam shut again, I caught a glimpse of a group of people on the other side of the room who were huddled around a boy already on the floor. A couple of them had turned their heads in my direction

"What the hell is going on?" I heard a girl shout. Her voice was unreasonably high, but seemed to be genuinely laced with fear and concern.

I struggled to answer her, and ask what was going on myself. I tried to introduce who I was but my mind wouldn't concentrate and my head had started pounding so fiercely that I could only hear the dull buzzing of voices shouting questions at me from across the room. I wanted to know what was going on, or who that boy was, or say anything at all. But I couldn't. I ended up shuffling forward before crashing to the floor, at where I was assuming was the front of the classroom. I heard footsteps come fumbling towards me, before I drifted into the thick blackness that consumed me the instant I let it.


End file.
